


Respite: All of Them Are True

by kaydeefalls



Series: Respite [2]
Category: Firefly, Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-27
Updated: 2008-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/pseuds/kaydeefalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'll bet she's a cop or a -- a game warden or something. I'll bet she has some sort of badge. I'll bet she has a license to kill."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Respite: All of Them Are True

The problem with having a gun, Vince thinks, is that every now and then Stuart actually wants to _shoot_ the bloody thing.

"You know," Vince remarks, making sure to keep well back, "sooner or later, the cactus is going to get tired of being shot at and shoot back."

"Fuck off," Stuart mutters, taking careful aim. This time, he just barely clips the edge of it. _What d'you call that bit, anyway?_ Vince wonders. The cactus branch? The limb? The pointing-out-bit?

Later, he'll suppose they didn't hear her sneak up on them because their ears were still ringing from all the gunshots.

"What in God's name are you doing?" she asks from behind them, and it's all Vince can do to refrain from shrieking. He might levitate a bit; but then, Stuart certainly does. But shrieking, now, _that_ Vince would never live down.

The woman is tall, black -- _African-American_, the prissy part of Vince's brain corrects -- and has a figure that could only be described as voluptuous. She's also carrying a gun nearly half her size.

"Oh, my God," Vince remarks, awed. "We're going to die."

"It's a free country, innit?" Stuart tells the killer woman cockily. "At least that's what it said in all the brochures."

The woman raises one eyebrow. She does not look impressed.

"Oh God," Vince says. "I'll bet she's a cop or a -- a game warden or something. I'll bet she has some sort of badge. I'll bet she has a license to kill. Look, please, we'll go away, don't shoot us," he pleads with her. "Or, well, shoot _him_, it was his bloody stupid idea to make your cactus into his fucking target practice. Oh, my God, the cactus isn't, like, endangered or something, is it? This might be some sort of national park or wildlife reserve or sommat--"

"We're in the middle of the fucking desert, Vince," Stuart snaps. "There's nothing reserved about this wildlife -- or the fucking lack of any, I should say. Are cacti even classified as living things, technically? Because they really shouldn't be. _Look_ at them."

The woman has apparently decided they don't pose any sort of threat. She leans on her absurdly large gun, looking faintly amused. "I'm not a fed," she says finally. "Heard the shots and came looking to see if there was any trouble." She shakes her head, looking them over. "Just a pair of idiots poking holes in plants, though. Or trying to."

"I hit it once," Stuart says indignantly, brandishing the revolver.

The woman winces. "I should hope so, seeing as you're standing hardly twenty feet away. And please don't wave it around like that, you're liable to hurt someone -- even if you can't seem to do much damage a-purpose."

"What d'you know about it?" Stuart demands, stung.

Vince rolls his eyes and mutters, "Well, she clearly knows how to handle a weapon, Stuart."

"Questioning my technique, Vince? Funny, I don't remember hearing any complaints in that department."

"Just bolstering your fragile ego, me."

"Not the only thing you've been bolstering."

The woman cocks her head and studies them, then visibly relaxes. "So you're sly," she says. "That's all right, then."

"_Sly_," Stuart says, rolling the word around his tongue. He grins. "I like it, Vince. Suits me."

"'Course it does, you bastard," Vince mutters, feeling his ears go pink. "Look, miss, I'm so sorry we bothered you, we'll just be going--"

He cuts himself off, because the oddest thing is happening. The woman sets her enormous weapon gently on the ground, then walks right up to Stuart and holds out her hand. "Your stance is all wrong," she says. "Here, let me show you."

Stuart regards her warily. "I don't let just anyone touch my gun, sweetheart, and no offense, but you don't have the right equipment."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm well aware of that. Just give it to me."

Stuart glances back at Vince, who just shrugs. "If she was going to shoot you, she'd do it with her own gun, I think," he points out. "Seems like a lot of trouble to take your own and -- ooh, unless she's trying to make it look like you--"

"Shut up, Vince," Stuart says, and gives the woman his gun.

"All right, now watch me," she says, and holds the gun firmly in both hands, pointing it at the unfortunate cactus. "I know it looks real shiny in all the vids to swing it around one-handed, but even a small weapon like this has a kick to it, and until you're used to handling it, it's best to keep a firm grip. Helps with the aim, too." She fires one shot. It blows a lovely hole dead center in the cactus. "Now you try."

Stuart reclaims the gun, reluctantly following her lead. Before he has a chance to aim, though, she's prodding at him, correcting his stance. Vince just watches, amused and curious.

She slaps Stuart's arm. "You need some tension there! This isn't a toy, it's a real live weapon with real live bullets. You have to be in complete control of where those bullets go or you _will_ get hurt."

"Or _I'll_ get hurt, more like," Vince mutters. The woman glances back at him, the faintest traces of what might be a smile playing across her lips. Just for a second, and then it's gone.

It's strange, Vince thinks, watching the way this stranger is manipulating Stuart's body. She's so clinical about it, completely detached. Well, not that she'd have posed any sort of sexual threat in any case -- what with the whole female thing, and all -- but still. It's as though she's completely turned off any potential for sensuality. She's treating Stuart as though he's just a piece of machinery, an extension of the gun in his hands. Which, Vince supposes, is the whole point of this little exercise.

Or maybe she's just a lesbian.

Finally, she's satisfied, and allows Stuart to actually fire the thing. He hits the cactus -- not dead on, not even close, but still. He hits it.

"Better," she says. "Keep practicing."

"I'm out of bullets," Stuart replies flatly.

Vince rolls his eyes. "And whose fault is that? You've only been missing at cacti for over an hour now."

"Didn't I say we should buy more ammo at the last place? You're the one who's always on about how dangerous it is. What's the point of _having_ a gun if I'm not supposed to bloody fire it?"

"The point is not to _need_ to fire it, you twat. Waving it about every now and then is all well and good, but there's no need to go all cowboy just 'cause we're in the American West."

"Oo-er, I'd like to see _that_. Get you in some chaps and a big fuck-off hat--"

"Chance'd be a fine thing. Bastard."

"What the hell are the two of you doing out here, anyway?" the woman interrupts, eying them bemusedly.

Vince and Stuart exchange a grin. "Whatever the fuck we want," Stuart tells her.

"We're traveling," Vince explains. "Seeing the universe. Or, well, this part of it, anyway. For now."

"Just...traveling? For any particular reason?"

"Long as we keep moving," Vince says, "it's reason enough."

The woman just looks at him, considering.

"What about you, then?" Vince asks. "You live around here or something?"

"Not exactly," she says. "Just...resting here a spell."

Stuart snorts. "And hunting for tourists, apparently. Ta very much for the lesson, it's been quite enlightening. And don't think I didn't notice you trying to cop a feel there, either." He turns to Vince. "Come on, I'm fucking starving. Let's go find a rest stop or something."

"There's sandwiches in the glove compartment," Vince says absently.

"I don't want _sandwiches_, Vince, I want _real_ food. With as much grease and improbably colored condiments as possible. You coming?"

"Be there in a second," Vince tells him, still watching the woman. There's something -- well, not _vulnerable_, that's entirely the wrong word, but _something_ about her, and he's curious. And she didn't try to cop a feel off Stuart. He'd have noticed.

"Right then," Stuart says, cocking an eyebrow. "I'll get the engine going. But if you're not there in five minutes, I swear to God I'm going without you. I'm that hungry." He waves back at the woman flippantly and heads off to the car.

The woman and Vince eye each other for a moment.

"D'you need a lift?" Vince asks, a little awkwardly. "I mean, you're out in the middle of nowhere, and unless you've got a horse hidden behind that cactus or something--"

"I'm all right, thanks," she says. She closes her eyes for a second. "I like the middle of nowhere part. It's peaceful."

"Until we came along, anyway," Vince says wryly. "Look, I'm sorry about Stuart, I know he can be a bit of an arse sometimes -- actually, all of the time--"

She smiles faintly. It's the first he's seen her smile. "You and him, you're..."

"Yeah," he says. "We are." She just looks at him, and so he just keeps talking, because that's what he _does_ when he doesn't know what else to do. "I know it doesn't make much sense, the two of us, but we make it work somehow. Didn't think it'd last a week at first, to be honest -- I must've been completely mad, running off with him like that, but, well, even if it only lasted a week, it'd have been worth it. All of it."

"How long has it been?" she asks softly.

He actually has to stop and think about it. "Well, I mean, we've been friends since we were just kids, so that's like almost two _decades_, oh my _God_ we're old, but that's not what you meant, is it? No, of course not. We're -- four years. It's been four years. Give or take a month or so."

The woman's eyes are shadowed. "It's always worth it," she says. "Every second of it. Don't you forget that."

"I won't," he says, surprised by the strength of her reaction.

A car horn beeps, loud and obnoxious.

"That'll be Stuart, then," Vince sighs. "He's that tetchy when he misses his lunch."

"Go on, then," the woman says. She leans down and retrieves her frighteningly enormous weapon, swinging it easily across her back. Vince winces but doesn't comment.

"Right," he says. "Look, it was nice meeting you -- oh, God, I've just realized, I don't even know your name."

She shrugs. "Doesn't matter much, does it? Anyway, it's Zoe."

"Zoe. Right. Lovely name. I'm Vince."

"Yeah," she says. "So I gathered."

"Right," he says again. "Well, bye then, I guess. Enjoy your, um, quiet. And your appallingly large gun. Which, thank you, by the way, for deciding not to shoot us, I thought I should mention how much I appreciate that. And for teaching Stuart how to shoot cacti, although really, I've a feeling I'm going to regret that in the end. Why did you, by the way? Help him out, I mean."

She gives him that faint almost-smile again. "No particular reason. Maybe because you reminded me of my--" She cuts herself off, blinking. "Of a man I used to know."

Stuart slams on the horn again.

"Goodbye, Vince," Zoe says. It has a finality about it. Vince knows he's not going to meet her again.

"Bye," he says. "And, y'know, thanks. Again."

She just nods and turns away, walking back out across the desert rock.

Vince jogs back to the car and swings himself into the passenger seat.

"Jesus, Vince, what the fuck took you so long?" Stuart demands. "God, you weren't _bonding_ with her, or something, were you? Some desert woman with a weird-looking gun, add a spaceship and I suppose she'd be straight out of Doctor Who or sommat--"

Vince leans over and kisses him. Snogs the living daylights out of him, really, teeth clashing and tongues battling it out and all.

"All right then," Stuart says, a bit breathlessly, when they finally pull apart. "What was that for?"

Vince thinks about Zoe's retreating figure, straight-backed and solitary and sad. "No particular reason," he says. "Just felt like it. Now, I thought you were hungry or something?"

"Yeah," Stuart says, eyes gleaming, as he grabs Vince's shirt and pulls him back in. "Yeah, I am."


End file.
